beaches – Page 4 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

Whatever it takes…

to get South outta the cold and snow…

Mission Bay RV Resort, San Diego, CA Clear, High 79F Low 61F

It doesn’t matter a bit that we have to drive several hundred miles, almost the full length of the state of California. Doesn’t matter a bit that for much of that drive we are traveling through the hazy warmed up fog/smog that blankets the Central Valley for much of the winter. Doesn’t matter a bit that we must drive over the Grapevine with bumper to bumper semi’s jockeying for position. Doesn’t matter one whit that we decided to drive straight through LA on I-5 to get south to San Diego. Whatever it takes, it is worth it to get south to the sunshine and blue skies that were waiting.

We left Lodi after a leisurely breakfast, knowing we had only 250 miles or so to reach our destination at the Orange Grove RV Park just east of Bakersfield. We were really happy to see that much of the surface of I-5 has been redone since our last trip south and even with the smog, oops, I mean haze, it was wonderful to soak up the sunshine pouring in through the windshield. Before 2:30 in the afternoon we pulled into the park and settled into space 177 at the far end of the row near the back. We were also delighted to discover that there was a free RV washing area. With a huge bag of oranges that would cost as least five bucks and a free RV/car wash that would cost another ten bucks in quarters, our “real” cost of spending the night at this non Passport America park came to about 18.00.

With the orchard fruit picker provided at the camp office, I managed to fill a giant cloth grocery bag in just a few minutes. Yum. The smaller oranges on the outside perimeters of the trees were sweeter, and for the last couple of days I have made some delicious fresh orange juice for breakfast. With the MoHo and Tracker all shiny and a simple spaghetti supper we were ready to settle in for a great night.

Of course, fate just had to mess with us a little bit to keep us from taking too much for granted. After supper I popped in the 3rd disc for the first season of Homeland and was greeted by a strange message on the fancy dvd player/home theater system installed in the MoHo. It has worked fine now for five years, but tonight it decided to jam with the dvd in the drive. We went online to check for a solution, and discovered in the process that the unit is permanently wired into the rig with no sign of a place to unplug it. Mo turned off the breaker and we spent close to a couple of hours taking the whole thing apart while it was still hanging from the cubby hole in the MoHo. We finally gave up and broke the dang thing completely apart to get out the Netflix dvd. That wasn’t much fun at all, and we still have no clue how we are going to replace the unit, or what to replace it with. Thank goodness the TV still works.

After a good night’s sleep, we both decided to not talk about the ruined player and went on to have a great day driving south once more. Bakersfield was a smoggy oops hazy, as ever but as we drove up over the Grapevine the haze receded and even going into LA the smog wasn’t bad at all. Even the traffic was bearable going right through downtown. (Mo is listening to me as I proof this, and she just said “That is because you weren’t driving!) There were a few sections of the 5 between the San Fernando Valley and downtown where the lanes were so narrow it seemed impossible for two big rigs to pass, but we managed with only a couple of rather scary moments as big rigs took up 1/4 of our lane and someone was right next to us on honking because we had to drift to avoid the truck. Whew! It looked as though the engineers had made six lanes out of five to make room for more traffic without widening anything to fit .

Once we passed Disneyland and Buena Park the traffic thinned out, the lanes widened, and the pavement was again smooth as silk as we rolled on south. A rest stop near Oceanside was interesting, with huge buildings that looked just like beautiful California missions, but were only big bathrooms made to look like missions.

We used the iPad maps (I refuse to download the iOS 6 so I still have google maps on my iPad) to go directly to the RV park without a hitch. We knew that using our Passport America card for a discount meant that we would only be able to stay through Friday morning for the half price cost of $25 per day. We also knew that we couldn’t make a reservation using the card, but Nina’s assertation that this was the low season here proved true and the park was only about half full. In no time at all, we were settled in.

Although the park itself is basically a big asphalt parking lot, the sites are big, there are shade trees all around, and there is great security. The best part of this park, however, is the location. Right on a peninsula that juts out into Mission Bay, there are miles of beautiful parks and trails all round the bay for walking, and the incredible dog park at Fiesta Island just a few minutes away by car.

It’s a Dog’s Life here in this part of San Diego, and today was all about Abby. We took her around the Bay Walk here by the park, and then drove over the Fiesta Island to find the dog park. The island is mostly brown and scrubby, with a somewhat muddy beach, but the dog park is huge, really huge, and is all green and grassy, and the beach that is within the dog park was much cleaner.

After some time on Fiesta Island, we drove around the Bay and crossed one of the more than 300 bridges in San Diego to discover the Dog Beach at the funky old hippie town of Ocean Beach. Even though dogs are restricted to the evening hours on the main beach, the Dog Beach is open and leash free all the time. What an amazing place, with soft white sand and lots of space and waves. I spread out a big towel and sat in the sunshine while Mo and Abby played ball for a long time before I took a turn. I had as much fun watching all the other dogs as I did playing with Abby.

Later in the afternoon we explored Ocean Beach in the car, but didn’t see much that made us want to get out and wander. Driving north to Mission Beach had much the same result, but finally farther north at Pacific Beach we found a parking spot and got out and walked the Beach Walk.

So far, San Diego has been a winner, at least this part has been. We are reading about the various neighborhoods throughout the city and are planning a day at Balboa Park tomorrow. Rumor says it is a great dog friendly place, and should be fun even without a visit to the famous San Diego Zoo. The goal is to stay loose, enjoy our sunny stay here in this new to us city, and not try to fit in so much that we end up feeling rushed and overloaded instead of relaxed.

Long Beach and Cape Disappointment

Thursday February 23rd

Except for the 3 mile move from Fort Stevens to Camp Rilea, I think today may have been one of the shortest drives from one site to another that we have experienced. In just 21.7 very short miles from Warrenton, north on 101, crossing the beautiful green bridge at Astoria, and winding along the north shore of the Columbia River, we entered the little town of Long Beach, Washington. Oh. Sales taxes again! We are so very spoiled in Oregon since there is no sales tax.

Along the way there are several sites that are part of the Lewis and Clark National and State Historic Parks, but we wanted to first find a home and settle in before we took our time exploring the peninsula. The sun was a weak, watery orb as we stopped again at the local Visitor Information Center.

The night before we had looked up all the Passport America and CampClub USA parks in the vicinity, and with more than 70 advertised RV parks in the area, we found just three that were club members. Of course, some parks understand the switch between CampClub and Passport, but others do not. We decided on a park called “Driftwood”, but I followed Laurie’s advice and checked out the reviews first. Hmmmm. Maybe not.

We then decided it would be better to be a little bit north of town rather than in a crowded park filled with old trailers, dogs, and junk. Our choice was perfect. Pacific Holiday Sunrise Resorts was just north of town a couple of miles, but on the ocean side of the highway, very quiet and clean, spacious, and almost empty. We paid the $15. half price fee, the $1.70 state sales tax, and a $3.00 resort fee for full hookups with great cable TV.

After a quick setup and lunch, we decided to drive north on the peninsula to explore what is touted as the World’s Longest Beach. A quick check later on the internet confirmed it is the longest US beach, and the longest drivable beach, but the hundred mile long beach in Bangladesh far outdoes the 28 miles of sand stretching north from Cape Disappointment.

We drove the back road closest to the water, but most of it was blocked from access by beachfront homes and no access signs. Finally we found a small path, and parked the car to brave the winds for some beach walking with Abby. It was really windy, and chilly, but we were determined to enjoy this beach! It was a bit disconcerting to have to move out of the way of the occasional car or truck driving along the frothy surf, but that was nothing compared to the dog scare.

Suddenly from nowhere, over a big sand dune, came two large aggressive dogs, barking and growling, hackles raised, circling Mo and Abby and threatening them. I am terrified of these kinds of dogs when they aren’t under control, but Mo kept her head and kept telling them, “Go Home!!”. They would listen for a minute then come back in and growl at Abby. Mo just kept being aggressive back, her only weapon was the plastic throwing stick for Abby’s ball. Abby seemed to be oblivious, and kept wanting to check them out. My knees were shaking, and I stayed behind Mo the whole time, but neither of us could turn our backs on them because they would come rushing back at us. Eventually they gave up, scared off by Mo’s alpha dog attitude and big green plastic stick. For me, however, the walk was ruined and I was ready to get back in the car for the rest of the explorations.

We continued driving north along the peninsula, where there were many beachfront houses, most of them empty, and the whole place seemed very uninviting. Driving to the bay side, we wandered as far north as the road allowed to Leadbetter State Park and the tiny historic town of Oysterville. A long drive back down the bayside of the peninsula was not particularly interesting and we decided to continue south to Cape Disappointment State Park.

For me, this was the goal of the journey. I wanted to look out over the Pacific the same way those two great explorers did back in 1805. I wanted to see what they saw and read more about their travels at what promised to be a beautiful visitor center high above the ocean with a view of the Cape Disappointment lighthouse. At the southern end of the peninsula, the road climbs steeply into the park, and the first side road leads to a view of the North Head lighthouse. Both of these lights are beautiful and historic, with North Head established in 1898 and the Cape Disappointment lighthouse in 1856.

The trail to North Head was just a short one but the view was spectacular. There were some cars out on the entry road and a flurry of activity that had us wondering what was happening. The coast guard was doing some rescue training and we were at the right place at the right time to watch their amazing maneuvers on the cliffs below us. The young man in the photo was a 6 year veteran of the coast guard and was a delight to talk to about his career. Watching him rappel down from the copter was more fun since we had talked to him beforehand. I know there are a couple of my blog readers who are coast guard retirees, so I thought you might like these photos. The winds were blowing hard and I was amazed at how steady the helicopter pilot kept that bird hanging in the air during the rescue practice.

We continued through the park to the beautiful interpretive center where there are beautiful trails leading to viewpoints and to the lovely black and white Cape Disappointment lighthouse overlooking the confluence of the Columbia River and the Pacific Ocean. In addition to our $10. state park entry fee (inside a National Park where our Golden Age Pass didn’t work), there is an additional $5. fee to go into the center. Mo chose to look at the views while I went in and learned even more about the expedition. This time, there were even a few stories of the journey home, another two years. Lewis’s first comment on arriving in St. Louis was to ask if his mother was still living. Clark probably said something like “Hi Honey, I’m Home” to his long suffering wife who hadn’t seen him in four years!

New exhibits at the center provide interpretation of the entire route, but focused on the Corp’s of Discovery’s pioneering exploration of the Columbia River in 1805 and 1806. The romance of this wonderful place seeped in deep enough that Mo and I bought a beautiful poster of the park highlights depicted in old fashioned post card style art to frame for our office at home.

We went home to our cozy rig for a bbq salmon supper, with a nice picnic table to hold the bbq and no rain to spoil it. We did, however, eat inside while watching the sunset. We were both pretty worn out from all the moving and traveling and dogs and cold winds so it was with great pleasure we settled in for an early evening of reading and some good television.

Friday morning we planned to travel south, moving quickly to get back to Brookings by Saturday afternoon, ahead of the predicted bad weather to come. But first we wanted to make an attempt to find some of the murals that were touted in a brochure we had received from the visitor center. On our first drive though Ocean Park we didn’t see a thing, but there was time to look again before we headed back south. We drove back and forth through town, to no avail. The places listed in the brochure were nowhere to be found, and stops in a couple of local shops were no help, with folks saying they had never heard of the murals.

I finally found a local guy raking some gravel and he told me that the Ole’s Nook Tavern had been sold several years ago and the mural painted over. The Sentry Market was now Thriftway, and that mural had also been painted over. Looking closer, we discovered the brochure was printed in 1995! We later found this website that would have been more helpful when we were looking, the Walking Tour of Ocean Park. On the way back through Long Beach, Seaside, and Ilwaco, we did find a few of the listed murals, however, some in great shape and some seriously faded. We even found one on the back side of Highway 103 that wasn’t listed in the brochure.

The other cool thing to look for in Ocean Beach are houses made from old shipwrecks washed ashore. Our newly found local friend Bob Bodine, 55 year resident of the area, told us where to go to find them. The craziest was called the “Door House”, and it was exactly that, a house made from doors from an old shipwreck. Bob mourned the loss of many of these historic places, saying that the new folks coming in didn’t care any more about the history of the place and many of these houses were being torn down. I’m glad we got to see them before that happened.

We knew that more than 200 miles were between us and our Eugene destination, but were glad to take the time to ferret out a bit of local history before we left Long Beach and headed south.

NOTE: All my photos are now stored on Google/Picasa, but I think the Picasa link on the left side of this blog page gets you there. If you are a Google Plus user you have probably seen then roll by. Now when I upload photos from Picasa, they go directly to Google Photos and are shared via Google Plus. I still have no idea how to share photos with folks that read the blog but aren’t necessarily on a shared list. I would have to make the album fully public to do that I think, and can only do that from Picasa. Google Plus requires “sharing”. Ack!! The whole thing makes me crazy. I also have photos from the past on SmugMug but because of bandwidth, I don’t upload everything there.

Tomorrow: The mall at Eugene, breakfast with Russ and Donna, and back to Brookings where we finally had our campfire!

The Mighty Columbia

(This post is from February 21 and 22 )

After two days of quilt shopping all along the Oregon Coast, it was time for us to relax back into our original plan to explore places yet unseen by both of us. Fort Stevens, Fort Clatsop, Astoria, and Long Beach on the Oregon Coast all have one thing in common. The incredible history of Lewis and Clark and their journey to the Pacific is the thread that ran through the rest of our time during our coastal road trip. Being winter, the beaches were beautiful, but cold and windy, and lazy beachcombing explorations were cut short when we would look at each other and say, “OK, Enough!”

Mo’s family, originally from North Dakota, relocated to the small mill town of Columbia City on the Columbia River north of Portland when she was just a toddler. She grew up with that truly mighty river in her backyard, a playground for homemade wooden rafts and watching the passing freighters. In spite of this, she doesn’t remember thinking much about the passage of Lewis and Clark down that same river.

I relocated to Idaho in my late 20’s and spent the next 25 years or so mapping soils throughout Lewis and Clark territory, sometimes actually walking on the trails they walked north of the Lochsa River and over Lolo Pass, and having lunch at Canoe Camp along the Clearwater. I mapped Nez Perce lands and in the process learned much about their interaction with the Corps of Discovery. I was fascinated then by their story, and for me this trip to the final destination of that amazing journey was extra special.

Our campsite at Fort Stevens was cloaked in mist when we woke on Tuesday morning. Our plan was to explore a bit and then move south to Camp Rilea, a Military Family Camp with full hookups and good television for a mere $20 per day. I can see why Fort Stevens is such a popular camp in the summer, with more than 500 spacious sites, lots of history and long stretches of open beach. For us, on this windy and cloudy morning, we decided to first check out the wreck of the Peter Iredale, one of the more than 2,000 ships claimed by the treacherous Columbia River bar since 1792, earning the bar the name “Graveyard of the Pacific”.

We had the beach to ourselves, and I worked very hard to get my photos to show something other than a seriously gray landscape. Even Abby wasn’t too interested in running on the cold, wet beach. The sands on this part of the Oregon coast are much finer as well, and darker in color, so with all the storms, the water was thick and muddy as the waves crashed inland.

Following our map of things to see at Fort Stevens, we drove north to the South Jetty and the ocean and wildlife viewing platforms at Clatsop Spit. As we approached the jetty, huge waves were crashing over the rocks and we were glad for the viewing platform to at least get a glimpse of the wild ocean.

The north and south jetties at the mouth of the river were built between 1885 and 1895 and served to keep beach sand from clogging the river. The sands have built up over time and the shoreline is now actually a full mile farther west than it was when Lewis and Clark arrived in 1805.

We drove through the State Historic Site portion of the park, with it’s tiny museum, but chose to continue to one of the historic batteries to get out and explore. Fort Stevens was actually constructed in 1862 during the Civil War and remained active until shortly after World War II. Although the guns have been removed, the concrete batteries remain.

We climbed the moss covered steps of Battery Russel and walked alone among what was left of our nation’s defense against a Japanese invasion. In fact, Fort Stevens was the only military installation on the continental United States to have been fired upon since the war of 1812. If you enlarge the photo on the left, (by clicking on it) you can read the information on the sign we found at the site. There is so much to see at Fort Stevens, and I can see how lovely it might be on a summer day, but because of the season, we had it almost all to ourselves. I know the weather here can be iffy any time of year, however, so even a summer trip would require plans for rain and wind and fog.

With most of the morning gone, it was time to get back to the rig and move our camp south to Camp Rilea. Just a couple miles south of Fort Stevens, Camp Rilea is an armed forces training camp first established for the National Guard in 1927. Even though there were only ten sites, all on pavement, I think we enjoyed it more than any other MFC we have visited. Once settled into our spot at the end of the line, we had wide open view of the pristine white buildings and red roofs surrounded by acres and acres of perfectly mowed grass, occasionally dotted with a large herd of Roosevelt elk that casually wandered through the grounds.

Once again settled in, we decided to return via Highway 101 to Cannon Beach, where I hoped to get a view and a photo of the famous Haystack Rock, the oft photographed icon of the Oregon Coast. By the time we got there, it was late afternoon, but in spite of the rain and wind, there were a few hardy souls walking on the beach and exploring the town that calls itself the Oregon coast answer to California’s Carmel. With some effort, we found beach access and walked down to the famous sea stack.

Cannon Beach was delightful, even in the rain, but Mo waited in the misted up car with Abby while I explored beautiful galleries and colorful candy shops. We then found the historic Driftwood Inn just in time for a happy hour Irish Coffee before going back north in the waning evening light.

Tomorrow: Astoria, Fort Clatsop, and Seaside

Another Rocky Point Sunday

The air has finally started moving again, and as I look outside the bedroom window I can see the last of the leaves twisting in the breeze. There is snow on the ground, still, from our foot of snow dropped a week ago, but it is thinning. Not that bad, really, for mid November. Sometimes during this time of year in our part of the world the air gets still and cold, with fog from the basin around the edges of the lake and smoke from the slash piles and prescribed burns making the air murky. It was like this for a week or so, and then a couple of nights ago the winds started blowing, dropping pine needles into the snow like pick-up sticks, and clearing the air. I love the sound of the wind at night.

Check out that great new stain on the house! The job is finally finished, with the crew coming to put the last touches on the last day before the snow fell. They did a great job, but we certainly weren’t very happy with the amount of time they spent doing it. The job was started in late September and only finished on November 3rd. Sometimes the crew wouldn’t come out until mid afternoon and only stay a couple of hours before leaving. We live a long way from town and we could never figure out how the contractor expected to make money doing business like that. Maybe he had too many jobs going on at once and was trying to keep everyone happy. Whatever. At least the job is finished and the house looks great and we didn’t have to do it ourselves!

On November 1st, Mo and I traveled west to Brookings for three gorgeous days on the beautiful sunny coast. On Monday, the 31st, Mo turned to me and asked, “Remind me again why we couldn’t leave for Brookings today?”. Halloween, silly! I had to be home for Halloween with my kids, actually the kids are only part of it. The rest of the story is the wonderful tradition of walking on the dark sidewalks filled with happy costumed families on Pacific Terrace, where I used to live in Klamath Falls. One more time I met my daughter and grandkids to walk through crispy leaves, smell the popcorn that one family hands out every year from their outdoor popcorn machine, and be amazed at all the wonderful decorations that line the street for a mile in each direction. There is no better place to be at Halloween than Pacific Terrace in Klamath Falls.

When we left Tuesday morning for the coast, the weather was incredible. Blue skies all the way, without even a hint of fog over the ocean to mar the views. We went immediately to Harris Beach State Park, hoping for one of the ocean view sites, only to discover that those sites were all taken, even on a weekday in November! Instead, we settled into a roomy spot just across the road from those premium sites, power and cable and water for 22 bucks and still a great ocean view.

Our main purpose for the trip was to get the MoHo settled in to her storage berth, so we immediately went to meet the owner to be sure that the unit was easily accessible. Turns out that it is just fine, and when we slid the MoHo in on Thursday morning before traveling back to Rocky Point, it was a piece of cake.

In the mean time, we spent a good deal of time looking at possible properties in the Brookings area, but none were just right for what we wanted. Still, it was fun driving up the Chetco River to look, and then to the north end of town, just hoping for the right combination of view, price, and of course a big RV storage shed to appear. We took some wild rambling roads and were surprised to discover that many roads around Brookings are incredibly narrow and steep. Saw a spot with a gorgeous view of the ocean, with the words “great for a two story cottage”. That should have been a clue, since the property was on the side of a mountain with just enough flat ground for a very tiny home, and no space for an RV shed.

We saw another truly beautiful home and giant perfect RV shed with a gorgeous view, and an unbelievable 8 foot deer fence surrounding almost all the property, enclosing 50 roses and some beautiful gardens. The price was OK, but then there was more than 5 acres that needed subdividing, with some weird garages with no windows and with people actually living in them! Very strange. All a bit too complicated, and we laughed and said, “Let’s go find the fish and chips”. Once more we went to the Chetco Café down in Harbor where the ambience is certainly funky but the fish was as perfect as last time, thin thin very crispy perfect coating on tender, flavorful perfect fish. Yum. And a decent white wine at 3 bucks a glass. Can’t beat it.

We spent the next day relaxing, or I should say Mo relaxed while I went into town to use the coffee shop internet for a work conference. Finally in the afternoon we headed for the gorgeous, sunny beach. Dinner was a perfect steak brought from home and a great campfire and then a walk that took us to the campsite of some local Rocky Point friends who just happened to be camping there as well. They invited us in to their fire, offered more wine and conversation, and the evening stretched out to the late hours with fun and laughter. Seems as though Harris Beach is a pretty popular place for most of us.

On Thursday, once the MoHo was settled in to the storage unit, we drove north to take the back road route from Gold Beach through Agness and back to Grants Pass. The road is called the Bear Camp Coastal Route, and is not maintained after November 5 through the winter and spring. We made it just in time. Although on the map the road looks like it should be a short fast way back home, in reality, it is steep and slow and absolutely beautiful. It follows the Rogue River to Agness then climbs the coast mountains before dropping back down to the Rogue near Hellsgate. Even in the Tracker, the road was a bit daunting, especially on the passenger side. It was beautiful, though, and while we may not have to do it again soon, I am glad I finally got to see the famous route over the mountains. Let me just say, DO NOT ever even think of driving this road in any kind of motorhome!

That morning Brookings was shrouded in clouds with rain coming down and snow predicted for the mountains above 4,000 feet. Sure enough at the top of the route we ran into some snow, some deer, and even a bear! I WILL learn to keep my camera in my lap and on, but instead, at the bear moment, Jeremy was snoozing in my lap and the camera was on the floor. By the time we got home, there was fresh snow over the pass on 140 but no snow yet in Rocky Point. We would have loved to stay longer in Brookings, but too many details awaited us and thank goodness the heaviest snow held off till our Friday errands were run and we were safely back at home. I can’t believe how lucky we were to get in just under the wire with the first really big snowstorm arriving the day we put the MoHo in storage in snowless Brookings. Perfect.

I spent last weekend cutting and sewing strips for my very first quilt. It was a perfect day to be playing with brightly colored fabric with the dark skies and falling snow. It is just a simple panel, with borders, and I got all the borders on and am now attempting to learn how to do the machine quilting part. Mo is worried that I will now start collecting fabric the way I collect yarn. Hopefully I will refrain from getting too carried away with all this.

I have been knitting, and quilting, and working soil survey stuff, and somehow the time to write has slipped. Winter is here, life has simplified a bit for now, and I am enjoying that a lot.

September 10 The Banana Belt Delivers

Clear skies, temperatures in the 80,s and new friends, it was a perfect day on the coast. Mo and I were laughing as I sat down to write this blog, trying to come up with a title. Titles shouldn’t make a bit of difference, but I have found that they do. Our blog post last spring titled “Vandalism” has received by far more hits than anything I have ever written. I sometimes wonder if folks are actually searching that word when they find it. Other titles, simple ones like “A beautiful day at the ocean” can slip by with not a soul paying any attention at all. Makes me laugh. Not that post views are the only reason to blog, but of course I can’t help noticing. I thought about the title, “Shocking!”, and then letting my first sentence be something like, “Shocking that it was 85 degrees at the coast today.”

The morning dawned brilliantly, with most of the summer fog lifting even before we were out of bed. We called the storage facility at 8:30 and “Mr. Wilson”, a charming and very accommodating gentleman, said, “If you are a Harris Beach I’ll meet you at the storage facility right now.” Seems as though he made the right purchases at the right time, with several storage facilities and home rentals scattered throughout town. He drove up in his new Prius, and measured all the door openings to find one that was 12 feet high. We found a great space, with plenty of room to back in, and he was fine with us paying him now and having the rent begin on November 1st.

With that major chore accomplished, we wandered around town a bit and did some shopping before ambling back home to our lovely sunny spot with a view of the ocean in the distance. Lunch was simple and we relaxed and waited for Connie and Tracy to appear in mid-afternoon.

Right on schedule, at 2PM, the two of them walked into our campsite with Hunter, the beautiful greyhound dog with fine manners and an incredibly sweet disposition. Hunter and Abby got along well, and Jeremy who was outside on the step, thought that this large new creature was incredibly interesting.

As is often the case with RVing friends, we launched right into comfortable conversation at the picnic table. Comparing notes on coastal weather, campgrounds, RV destinations, rig configurations and all those interesting topics that make my townie, non RVing friends look a bit vague and simply yawn. A walk down to the southern end of Harris Beach on the South Beach Trail with the dogs was on the agenda, and with a couple of camera toting shutterbugs and two happy dogs we took off walking.

The time at the beach was great, and the dogs were perfect entertainment. We laughed and talked some more and did the obligatory time-release camera shots on the beach, propping cameras on near-by rocks to take photos of the four of us together. It was great fun. Mo and I are solitary travelers, enjoying our own company and not big socializers, but now and then some companionable friends are a delight. I know our paths will cross again, and next time we might actually have to get out the dominoes!

Back at camp, with some good Alaskan Amber and a few snackies, the conversations flowed on till early evening. The two of them had a couple of hours to drive back to their camp at Cape Blanco and hopefully they made it home before dark. Mo and I decided that all the excitement was just too much fun and we skipped the campfire for the evening and settled in to watch a delightful little movie called, “Love For Rent”. I think the R rating is for some of the four letter words in the beginning, the most of the movie isn’t R at all. We both really enjoyed it.